


En Route

by sewnbythecolourofgreen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Airplanes, Angst, Cancer Arc, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:06:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2089980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewnbythecolourofgreen/pseuds/sewnbythecolourofgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully in an airplane. Set during cancer arc. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Route

For once it was Scully, not Mulder, who insisted they take the case. Mulder hadn't wanted to go anywhere, the last several weeks of cases had all been in or around D.C. Every night Scully spent in a motel room was a night something could happen, a night her condition could worsen, a night away from her doctors.

This time Scully had insisted, she’d wanted work to continue normally, as though by ignoring her cancer she could will it out of existence. The case was a throw-away, crop circles in Idaho nothing more than an excuse.

Halfway into the flight, Mulder had already offered her the aisle seat, his in-flight peanuts, his jacket- anything he could think of, she could have it. She declined all of it. Mulder knew Scully wanted to be left alone, for him to stop crowding her, watching her, but after four years of constant proximity, it seemed he’d forgotten how to give her space.

Mulder watched carefully and closely as his partner’s gaze turned from the window to her tray table.

"Scully," he said quietly, gesturing to her nose.

"Oh God." she said, wiping away blood with the back of her hand. "I need to go to the bathroom." He stood in the aisle while she got out of her seat, watching her until she disappeared into the airplane bathroom before sitting down again, He took her seat, the window, alleviating the need for awkward shuffling around when Scully returned.

There were two drops of blood on the tray table, bright red against the otherwise pristine surface.

Should he have followed her? No. That would have been pushing to hard. He didn't want to drive her away.

 _Anymore than you already have_ , he thought.

 _Shut up_.

He glanced out the window, but he could see blood out of the corner of his eyes. The two drops stood out too much, they seemed almost too real against the white.

Too red in the first place, they hurt me.

What was that? Poetry, a lost relic from his Oxford years. A poem about flowers, he was fairly certain. What kind of flowers? Poppies… or was it roses?

He couldn't focus, couldn’t think.

The blood was too distracting.

Using his thumb, he tried wiping it away. Scully couldn't have picked a worse time to return, just in time to see what he was doing.

He’d made the problem worse. Now the whole middle of the table had a pinkish smear, and it was on is hand too.

"Do you want this seat?" he offered as Scully sat down. He noted the bleeding had stopped.

"I'm fine," she didn't look at him.

"I didn’t mean- "

"I’m fine, Mulder," she said again.

The rest of the flight was spent in silence.


End file.
